Boxing Day
by LittleOtter
Summary: The Jedi Council has issued an order to all MasterPadawan teams currently at the Temple to switch places for a day. But can ObiWan take it? Complete.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Alright, so it's August, and nowhere close to Boxing Day, but this hit me the other day, and I was bored anyway. And I don't own Anakin, Obi-Wan, the Jedi Temple, or even Ki-Adi-Mundi. Sadness...

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

"Next time," Anakin groaned as he flopped heavily onto the couch. "We're going to tell the Council that the galaxy can save itself."

"Boots off the couch, Padawan," Obi-Wan chided absently, scrolling through the holocom messages.

Anakin muttered something that Obi-Wan chose not to hear, and the offending objects thudded loudly to the floor. "Repeat after me, Master: 'The galaxy can save itself.'"

Obi-Wan didn't respond, watching a holographic recording of Master Ki-Adi-Mundi blather on about something that was undoubtedly vital to the survival of all sentient life. He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and releasing his annoyance into the Force, and attempted once more to focus on the message.

"Come on, Master. You can do it. 'The gala-'"

"Anakin, have you eaten?"

Anakin twisted his head back to look at Obi-Wan. "Unless you're counting ship meals as food, when would I have had the time to eat?"

"Food would be an excellent idea," observed Obi-Wan.

"Are you volunteering to cook?"

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. "My dear Padawan, you have much to learn, specifically about the properties of matter. If I could somehow conjure up raw materials to work with, I could indeed cook. As it is, matter cannot be created or destroyed." He paused, smiling wryly. "And neither can energy, for that matter. I am, quite simply, too tired to cook."

"And I am too tired to listen to and comprehend another one of your educational lectures." Anakin sighed, lifting the pillow from the other end of the couch with the Force and balancing it just below the ceiling. "I suppose what you're actually saying with all that is that you want me to go down to the dining hall and bring back some food."

Obi-Wan grinned wearily. "You catch on quickly, my young apprentice."

Anakin groaned loudly and let the pillow fall down on his face. "All right, I'll go," he said, swinging his feet off the couch and back into his boots. "But ONLY because you convinced the Council to give us an extra two week's vacation."

"Thank you, Anakin," replied Obi-Wan as the door hissed shut. The mission from which they had just returned had been stressful for both of them. It was a simple negotiations mission, between two tribes on one of the moons of Liordon XII, but neither the Council nor Obi-Wan had taken into account the natural stubbornness of the race. They had sat for weeks, finding new compromises to satisfy the unshakable demands of both parties. By the end, Anakin was a centimeter away from admitting defeat and crawling under his chair to hide, and Obi-Wan was giving serious consideration to Force-suggesting them all into compliance and making an escape before the effects wore off.

He rewound Ki-Adi-Mundi's message. Stars, was he _still_ talking? This had better be important… He pushed the 'play' button on the holocom again.

The message was evidently a Temple-wide announcement, not specifically for him. Obi-wan grimaced in irritation and prepared to tune out the message while he set the table.

_There is much that we can learn from children. It is a humbling realization for the best of us, but not shaming, for younglings are the heart of innocence and purity in the galaxy. _

"Mm-hmm, and who have you been talking to?" Obi-Wan muttered, thinking of Anakin in the early years of his apprenticeship.

Ki-Adi-Mundi continued undeterred. _No organization knows this better than the Jedi Council. That is why we have chosen this coming Fifthday to celebrate what our Padawans can teach us._

Obi-Wan suddenly had a very bad feeling about this. He paused by the counter with a handful of utensils to pay closer attention.

_All day Fifthday, every Master and Padawan team at the Temple will be required to switch places._

Obi-Wan dropped the utensils. The resounding clatter barely registered on the edges of his senses as he crossed the kitchen to the holocom in two long steps.

_The Master will, for the day, take the place of the Padawan learner, and will accept instruction from his or her temporary Master.The switch will be effective from 0600 to 2400. The Jedi Council encourages all Masters present to enjoy this opportunity to experience a unique form of education, and to apply any valuable lessons learned. Thank you for your time._

The message ended, the hologram of Ki-Adi-Mundi disappearing to be replaced by the company logo of the holocam's manufactuers, but Obi-Wan still stared at it blankly.

_-Master?!-_ Anakin sent along the training bond, the thought following a pulse of alarm. _-Is something wrong? Are you all right?-_

Obi-Wan groaned, berating himself silently. He'd been standing in slack-jawed amazement, unconsciously allowing his shock and bewilderment to fly along the unshielded bond directly to his padawan, the very LAST person who needed to know about this. _-Ah. . .Yes! Yes, I'm fine! I just. . .ah, found some rotten fruit in the cupboard, and it surprised me. I didn't know anything could get that furry, ha ha.-_

On the other end of the bond, Anakin was relieved, but unimpressed. _-Really.-_

_-Yes…-_ Obi-Wan sent back, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

_-Master, you're a terrible liar, you know that?-_

To Obi-Wan's relief, his apprentice did not press the issue, apparently distracted by more important matters. He only hoped it was the food, not another padawan learner telling him about Fifthday's event.

Exhaustion forgotten, he shielded the link and bent to pick up the utensils, thinking furiously. He needed a plan, and he needed it now, before Anakin got back. Maybe they could be conveniently off-world… no, they had two weeks of vacation before them, thanks to him. If off-world wouldn't work, maybe simply leaving the Temple would be sufficient… but no, that wouldn't do either. They did not leave the Temple without a reason, and Anakin would become very suspicious if they started now. The only option would be to stick around the Temple and hope that Anakin remained oblivious. Fifthday was tomorrow, after all. It was quite possible that Anakin wouldn't find out…

First things first. Obi-Wan furtively checked on his Padawan's progress - he was just leaving the dining hall - and deleted the announcement from Ki-Adi-Mundi. That was all he could do - and really, he didn't think it would matter; Anakin couldn't care less about holocom calls - but just in case. . .

This done, he finished setting the table and sat down with a datapad to read the news. It wasn't long before Anakin entered with a tray of food piled with twice as much food as it was meant to carry and a small pitcher of citrus juice.

"Anything interesting?" he inquired, deftly unloading the contents of the tray onto the plates.

"Mmm. Doom and gloom." Obi-Wan replied distantly.

Anakin fell to with an enthusiasm hardly warranted by the Temple food. "Mph mmm mmpha mmph, Maphr?"

Obi-Wan set the datapad down, arching an eyebrow. "Anakin, if I wish to be mumbled at, I will hire a Hutt translator."

"Phorry, Maphr." Anakin swallowed hastily, taking a swig of his citrus juice. "I said, are you gonna eat? 'Cause if not. . ." he trailed off, eyeing Obi-Wan's portion with something that could only be described as malevolent intent.

Obi-Wan caught the expression. "Ah-hahaha, no. No, no, no, no, no. This food belongs to _me_, it was brought to _me_ by _my_ padawan, and _I_ am going to eat it." To emphasize this statement, he pulled his plate closer and took an enormous bite of mashed vegetable.

Anakin watched the expressions crossing his master's face with growing interest. "Something wrong, Master?"

Obi-Wan finally managed to swallow the revolting mess. He sputtered and coughed, downing most of his citrus juice in an attempt to remove the foul taste from his mouth. "On second thought, you may have the vegetable."

Anakin grinned broadly, accepting the food with satisfaction.

Obi-Wan regarded his apprentice suspiciously. "You did that on purpose," he accused.

Anakin blinked at him with rather too much innocence. "M-me, Master?"

"Yes, you. You took advantage of one of my few dislikes to get more than you share of food."

"Paranoid much, Master?" Anakin grinned. "Next time, you can get the food, and I'll sit up here and read the news."

Obi-Wan just managed to keep from looking guilty. "Whatever you say, my very young apprentice."

Anakin smirked. "Which, of course, is your way of saying 'In your dreams.'" He took another bite of his food, chewed, and swallowed. "We shall see."

_He knows!_ Obi-Wan realized with a rush of panic, looking at Anakin out of the corner of his eye. _Or suspects something, at the very least._ He gave a non-committal grunt and resumed eating.

After supper, Anakin flopped back onto the couch, taking off his boots for the second time that day and using the Force to send them gliding across the room to their place by the door. Obi-Wan, distracted from the dishes by the flying boots, peered out at his apprentice disapprovingly.

"Yes, Master," said Anakin without looking. "I'm very sorry, Master. I won't do it again, Master."

"Of course you won't," retorted Obi-Wan, rolling his eyes and returning to the dishes. Frivolous Force-use was an ongoing battle between the two, as Anakin had yet to accept the fact that it was unhealthy for a Jedi to get into the habit of using the Force to do what could be done just as easily by hand.

When he exited the kitchen, drying his hands on his tunic, Anakin was playing with a small, flat object, turning it over and over in his hands. Feeling a strange foreboding, Obi-Wan tried to get a better look at it without being obvious.

"Give up yet?" Anakin asked with an infuriating smugness.

"What is it?"

"You know," Anakin said, sitting up and setting the object on the caf table, "I was hoping that you could tell me." He pressed a button on the disc and leaned back.

A tiny, holographic figure of Ki-Adi-Mundi appeared, giving an abbreviated version of the comm message of earlier.

"They were handing them out to all the padawans in the dining hall," said Anakin after the message was finished. "Apparently," he continued, inspecting a small scratch on his thumb. "Some of the Masters failed to notify their Padawans of this turn of events."

"I'm sure I don't know anything about it," Obi-Wan shrugged, plastering on his best Don't-Blame-Me face.

"As I said before, Master, you're a terrible liar. And none of the cupboards smell of rotten, furry fruit."

Obi-Wan muttered something about anti-bacterial spray as the deepest shade of red Anakin had ever seen on his distinguished Master spread from his nose to his ears.

And as Anakin watched Obi-Wan squirm, he did the unforgivable.

He snickered.

All things considered, Obi-Wan was a remarkably patient Jedi. A few snickers from an insolent padawan might have been forgiven and forgotten. But snickers from an insolent padawan have a way of multiplying into snorts and wheezes and full-fledged howls of laughter, and that is hardly to be borne.

Miffed, Obi-Wan drew himself up, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. "It wasn't _that_ funny."

"Yes, it was!" insisted Anakin, gasping for breath. "You have no idea what you looked like just there!"

"I could hazard a guess," replied Obi-Wan dryly. This only served to fuel Anakin's mirth, and he collapsed back into helpless laughter, holding his side while his master alternately rolled his eyes, sighed impatiently, and glared at the chrono on the wall.

"Are you finished yet?" Obi-Wan finally snapped, patience pushed to the limit.

Anakin sat up straight, still chortling, but with a sheepish, apologetic air. "Sorry, Master."

Obi-Wan shot him a death-glare, then took a deep breath. "Now. It appears that we shall be participating in this… event." He shot a sudden glance at his apprentice. "Unless," he said hopefully, "you'd rather not… ?"

Anakin snorted. "Please, Master. Do you think me so foolish as that? The one chance I get to boss you around, and you think I would give it up?"

His Master ignored him. "I shall be turning in early," he said stiffly. "I do, after all, wish to be a good student tomorrow. I suggest you do the same."

Oblivious to the jab, Anakin nodded absently – _Probably already thinking up tortures for tomorrow,_ Obi-Wan thought grimly – and pocketed the disc. "I agree, Master. I'll see you in the morning."

Obi-Wan stared in growing alarm as his Padawan, following his orders, walked down the hall and disappeared into his room. Anakin was actually going to bed early to prepare for tomorrow…

_Sithspit._

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reviews keep me writing! And I'm not finished with the second part yet. Evilgrin.

Thankee!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Alright, it's done. And I still don't own Star Wars.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Maaaaster."

Obi-Wan groaned and pulled a pillow over his face. "Go away."

"I can't hear you, Master." The pillow was unceremoniously yanked away.

"Five minutes."

"Come on, Master, we have a lot to do today."

"Mmphm."

"Master, don't make me!"

Obi-Wan rolled over, ignoring the threat to his sanity.

A dramatic sigh. "All right, Master, but you forced me to it."

Obi-Wan yelped as he was hoisted into the air by his ankle. With that as incentive, he woke up very quickly indeed.

Anakin stood below him, arms crossed and grinning widely.

Obi-Wan glared at him - well, as much as he was able to glare while hanging over a meter above his bed from one foot. "Down. Now!" he rasped.

"If I let you down, you'll go back to sleep," objected Anakin.

"So? What time is it? Why shouldn't I sleep?"

"So, as your temporary Master, I don't want you to be asleep. It is 0600 hours, and you shouldn't sleep because I'm supposed to be teaching you!"

Obi-Wan moaned as full memory returned. Oh, he would _kill_ whatever sadistic, power-enamoured Council idiot decided this had to start at 0600 hours. "I assure you, my dear Padawan, that I will remember this the next time that you refuse to wake up and are too disoriented to fight back."

"You know," Anakin grinned impudently, "I think this is worth it. Where did I put that holocamera. . ."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I would, if I could find it," Anakin mused. "I had it on the mission to Nagaar. . ."

"Then thank the Force for your disorganization," said Obi-Wan. He turned his attention to the Force-hold that Anakin had him in. A-ha! Hastily done, though strong, like most of his apprentice's work. And, like most of Anakin's work, it had certain weaknesses. It was a simple matter of worming through those weaknesses and increasing them, and the Force-hold was loosened while Anakin was distracted.

Unfortunately, Obi-Wan wasn't the greatest of multi-taskers at the best of times. And six-o-clock in the morning after an especially taxing mission was hardly the best of times. Obi-Wan's foot was freed, but he'd forgotten about the rest of himself. He tumbled onto his bed heavily, performing an awkward sort of somersault to save his neck and back.

Anakin snorted in amusement. "Five minutes, Master."

Glowering darkly as his Padawan left the room, Obi-Wan picked himself up and crossed to the closet to find some every-day clothes. He refused to look at his bed - still warm and inviting, blast the Council and their delusions of intelligence - until his sleep tunic and pants were safely folded.

Upon leaving his room, he found to his relief that Anakin had already started making the morning meal - nerf-sausage with an unfamiliar sort of fruit. Obi-Wan took over the slicing of the fruit as Anakin flipped the sausages, sizzling pleasantly from the stovetop. "So," he said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "What have you got planned for today?"

"Oh, lots." Anakin replied, his eyes dancing mischievously.

Obi-Wan sighed irritably. It seemed that his padawan was determined to prolong the agony.

"Calm down, Master," Anakin said from the stove. "You're always complaining about how stressful it is having me for an apprentice. Consider this a vacation."

The knife slipped. "Ow!" Obi-Wan sucked at a cut on his index finger. "The thought of having you in charge is anything but reassuring."

Anakin only grinned, scooping the sausages onto their plates. Obi-Wan put the fruit slices into a small bowl, and the two headed for the table.

Over breakfast, Obi-Wan made a conscious effort to calm himself. Really, he was blowing this out of proportion. Anything Anakin had thought up couldn't be as unpleasant as some of their missions. The only inherent risk in this particular event was that of complete humiliation. But the announcement had been Temple-wide, so any other Jedi who happened to see anything embarassing would certainly understand _why_. Wouldn't they?

He stood up, taking his dishes and utensils into the kitchen and turning on the hot water to wash them. The flow of water shut off as quickly as it had turned on. Obi-Wan turned to Anakin with an aggrieved air.

"We'll take care of them later," Anakin said, waving a hand dismissively.

"We'll take care of them later," Obi-Wan agreed, nodding wisely. He shook his head violently a second later, trying to shake off the effects of the Force-suggestion. "Anakin!"

"Yes, Master?" Anakin grinned innocently, tilting his chair back and popping his knuckles.

Stars, when had he become so proficient in Force-suggestion? "Cleaning up will take all of a quarter-hour," Obi-Wan pointed out.

Anakin rolled his eyes and settled his chair back on all four legs. "A quarter-hour that can be spent elsewhere. I want to get going."

"Going where?"

"You'll find out," Anakin said mysteriously, standing to put his own dishes in the sink. "Ready?"

Obi-Wan ran a hand over his slightly-mussed hair and glanced wryly at a previously unnoticed stain on his tunic and shrugged. "I suppose so."

Anakin was already putting on his boots. "Let's go."

-------------------------------------------------------

"Token, please?"

Obi-Wan glumly put the small silver token that certified that he was indeed a Jedi Master and taking a ship for a good reason into his Padawan's open hand. He should have guessed that the hanger would be the first stop with Anakin in charge. His apprentice's endless fascination with flying was a constant source of wonder for Obi-Wan. Even after seven years of being Anakin's master, he failed to understand how anyone could get such exhilaration from simply moving from one place to another. It made no sense whatsoever.

Anakin was unlocking the controls for two one-man fighters, the sort he'd been wheedling his master to let him try almost from the moment he'd first set foot in the Jedi Temple. They had never needed to use the fighters, as the Council had continued to take advantage of Obi-Wan's significant negotiation skills, even after Anakin was advanced enough to accompany his master on more dangerous missions.

"Can you fly these?" Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin snorted derisively. "If it has wings, I can fly it."

And Obi-Wan had to agree. Anakin was already just as good a pilot as he was, and he had shown several times that his skills could be adapted to almost anything with an engine.

"The question is," Anakin continued. "Can you?"

For the first time that day, Obi-Wan let a grin split his face. "Was that a challenge, Padawan?" he inquired, stepping into the cockpit and tugging on the helmet with practiced ease.

"Maybe," Anakin replied, mirroring his actions. Two glassy, domed shields hissed into place, and the fighters taxied out of the hangar. Anakin glanced over at his unsuspecting master. Obi-Wan would check and double-check every aspect of his fighter, and expect Anakin to do the same. He grinned. He would have some fun, just this once. Leaning back into his seat, he closed his eyes and reached for the Force. . .

Obi-Wan jumped in alarm. Across his display screen was an error message: _Code Red - Evacuate fighter immediately._ He reached for the button to retract the transparisteel shield, then hesitated. There had been no warning from the Force at all; in fact, if not for the message in front of him, he would swear that there was nothing. . .

His thoughts broke off as the message changed. _Just kidding._ He swung around to look at his apprentice, and just caught a glimpse of Anakin's fighter soaring out of sight.

_-Padawan!-_

----------------------------------------------------------

Ten minutes later, Obi-Wan had caught up to Anakin. "That was uncalled for."

"You're only jealous that I beat you out of the hangar."

"Or perhaps simply irked that you cheated to do it?"

"It worked, didn't it?"

Obi-Wan raised both eyebrows, despite the fact that Anakin couldn't see the expression. "Cheating will not get you far, my dear Padawan."

A mild pulse of annoyance seeped through the bond. "Hey, who's the Master for the day again? If anything, I should be berating you for being so uptight!"

"Excuse me for forgetting my place," Obi-Wan returned icily. When nothing further was said, he probed along the link tentatively. Finding a slightly-ashamed Anakin on the other side, he softened. "What are we doing?"

"Flying, obviously," replied Anakin, bemused.

Obi-Wan sighed, feeling some of his impatience return. "Yes, I realize that we are flying. _Why_ are we flying?"

Silence as his apprentice mulled this over. "For fun? Come on, Master, don't you ever do anything just for fun?"

"Of course I..." Obi-Wan paused. Well, no, he didn't, not really. His days, when they weren't occupied with a mission, were comprised mainly of sparring and meditation. Dueling with Anakin was entertaining, occasionally, but he did it more for the purposes of teaching his padawan, out of a sense of duty, than _fun_.

"I thought not," Anakin said. "Well, then, here are my orders. You are not to waste time worrying until at least midnight tonight."

"My worrying has saved both our lives more often than I can count," objected Obi-Wan.

"Yes, and I'm very grateful, but today we're not in any mortal danger," Anakin replied.

"That you know of."

Anakin's exasperation was clear through the crackle of the transmitter. "Master, please. Try to enjoy yourself? Live in the moment, for once."

Echoes of another's voice resounded in the words. Obi-Wan blinked, wondering if his padawan was telling him honestly what he thought or simply being sneaky. Either way, he realized abruptly, it was good, sound advice. He hesitated, then sent a wordless pulse of respect along the bond.

It was accepted with gratitude. "Now, Master," said Anakin. "Let's have some fun."

The idling fighter two to three meters to his left shot into motion, leaping forward through silent space like Anakin's elation embodied. A whoop came over the radio as the fighter entered a dizzying series of spins. Obi-Wan started to call out in caution, but then checked himself. They were far above Coruscanti traffic, and there was a healthy amount of space between them and the nearest registered hyperspace exit point. They were as safe as they could possibly be in the general area of Coruscant, and Anakin _was_ an excellent pilot.

Meanwhile, the boy had tired of flips and dives and sharp turns. His fighter idled perhaps a kilometer away - funny, how irrelevant distance seemed when faced with the cold, sharp reality of space. "Come _on_, Master! Gardulla the Hutt moved faster than you!"

Obi-Wan laughed, then, _really_ laughed, as he hadn't taken the time to do in. . .how long had it been? Grasping the controls, he copied his apprentice's erratic path perfectly, until his own craft hung next to Anakin's, with almost exactly the same amount of space between them.

"Nice," said Anakin appreciatively. "But keep up with THIS!" The fighter lunged forward again, this time even faster than before. The flips and spirals were even neater and more concise than previously, Anakin's complete confidence in his craft and skill clear.

Obi-Wan did not wait this time for Anakin to stop. He hurtled after his padawan with reckless abandon - a feeling as unfamiliar to the Master as fear. It was new and exhilarating. . . and he liked it. The complete focus given to copying Anakin's every move left no room for doubts or hesitation. Only for trust.

They continued for some time - neither could ever remember how long, but time has no meaning in space. They dived in and out of atmosphere, playing with air as a child plays in a puddle of water. The formation of their fighters grew even more precise, until they moved almost in unison. And when, at last, the crafts glided to a stop, just brushing the atmosphere, both remembered to breath.

The edge of Coruscant's sun, white and fierce and terrible, slid below the surface of the planet. The stars beyond - suns of myriad other planets - shone out with sudden, striking clarity. Deadly and lovely as a 'saber blade,they stretched across the galaxy, as far as the eye could see and farther.

_-They're beautiful,-_ came a barely perceptible whisper of thought from the bond. A flood of emotion followed, blinding in its intensity. Joy, deep and poignant. Fierce, protective love. Bittersweet pain, mingled with each, as a vein of precious metal through a clear stone. And, beneath it all, a constant, steady current of peace.

_That's it,_ realized Obi-Wan suddenly. _That's what a Jedi ought to be like._ A rush of pride and affection for his wayward and impulsive padawan filled him, settling into a thick lump in his throat.

Anakin stirred, glancing at Obi-Wan through the shields. "We should head back."

Obi-Wan agreed silently as they circled the planet towards the Temple's signal. The fighters dropped into traffic, reluctantly exchanging the smog and grime of the city for space's crystalline purity. They did not speak again until both crafts were safely landed and re-parked in their places in the hangar.

"It's strange, isn't it?" said Anakin as his master climbed out of the fighter, stretching. "Everything feels so clear out there. It's just you and the Force. You. . ." he paused, gesturing expansively. "You get a sense of purpose. You remember exactly what you are meant for, and you feel, almost, that you can do it." He stopped and turned, looking out the hangar's archway at the traffic teeming in the evening sky beyond. "And then you enter atmosphere. You come back to real life, and everything's fuzzy. Blurred."

Obi-Wan did not speak, but his silence, coupled with a gentle clap on his padawan's shoulder, spoke volumes. He understood.

They walked back to the apartment slowly in contemplative silence, turning over and examining the day in their thoughts. There was no need for speech: the bond was fully open. An exhausted contentment flowed between master and padawan, and a deep-seated longing for the galaxy to be as it should, for shades of gray to resolve into far-reaching darkness and points of inextinguishable light. And finally, though it was slow in coming, resigned acceptance of the way things were.

Anakin palmed open the door, and immediately flopped onto the couch in his usual position. "Hey, Master?"

"Yes?"

"I'm hungry."

----------------------------------------------------------

Ten minutes later, Obi-Wan found himself carrying a tray through the line in the dining hall, requesting double portions of everything. He should have seen it coming, though in truth he found irritation with his cheeky apprentice next to impossible at the moment.

"Ah, Master Obi-Wan. Hungry for your evening meal, are you?"

"Master Yoda," Obi-Wan greeted the diminutive Jedi, bobbing his head slightly in respect. He glanced down at the overloaded tray. "No, half is for Anakin." A sudden thought struck him and he pounced on it. "Master Yoda, was the Master-Padawan switch your idea?"

Yoda regarded him with a touch of curiousity. "My idea, it was."

"Then I must extend my deepest gratitude. I hadn't realized how much I was missing until this day."

"Sense, I do, that tell you your padawan did not," said Yoda, something undefinable flickering across the wizened face.

Obi-Wan blinked in confusion. "Tell . . . me?"

Yoda's face twitched again. "In light of your recently completed mission, defer you and your padawan from this activity, the Council did."

Obi-Wan was turning red again, he could feel it. Even the very tips of his ears were burning. The strange expression on Yoda's face appeared again, stronger, and Obi-Wan realized with another flash of embarassment that the green master was trying very hard to restrain his laughter. The flush covering Obi-Wan's entire face redoubled, and he turned back to the serving droid with a mumbled "Good night, Master Yoda."

His poor, wounded dignity picked itself up slightly as he saw the dessert that the droid held: Alderaanian bushberries, a dish fit for kings when served with cream and sweetener, as these were.

Anakin despised them.

_A Jedi seeks not revenge_, Obi-Wan told himself gleefully as he accepted a triple portion.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I _really_ didn't mean to turn it into an angsty-ish thing. Really. But it kinda popped out anyway. (sheepish) Reviews make me very happy! (goes off whistling)


End file.
